


Temporary, Permanent

by ceilingfan5



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Dating, F/F, Flowers, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Wholesome, hurley runs a flower shop, love..., sloane runs a tattoo parlor, soft and sweet, the world needs more f/f fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5
Summary: Hurley's flower shop is getting a new neighbor--a tattoo parlor. She didn't expect it to come with Sloane, the hottest woman she's ever seen, but that's just bonus. Now there's just the question: Date her? Date her not?
Relationships: Hurley/Sloane (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 62





	Temporary, Permanent

**Author's Note:**

> The world and this fandom in particular need more f/f fics!! and sometimes you gotta be the change you want to see in the world!!!! join me in celebrating ladies in love the old fashioned-way--with trope-candy fic! 
> 
> Please comment on and share this fic if you enjoy it! Your words, no matter how few, mean a lot to me, plus they help keep me writing more delicious stuff for you to consume! Thank you! 
> 
> Thanks to stealthtable and honeycorvid for betaing and to hannahlady and emmam56 on tumblr for encouraging the hurloane!!!

“Shit! Shit, shit, oh, shit...” Hurley runs to grab a broom to clean up the broken shards of the decorative plant holder she definitely didn’t drop, no siree. And even if she did drop it, it certainly wasn’t because the woman leasing the space right next to Hurley’s florist shop made direct eye contact with her through the window and winked, just winked at her like some kind of inciting action in a romance movie. If Hurley was going to be in any movie at all, it certainly wouldn’t be a romance movie. The way her life has gone so far has definitely shown her that much. 

She retrieves the broom and sweeps up the ceramic danger chunks, still muttering rude things under her breath, and when she pops back up, that woman is there again, monitoring the moving truck as her cohorts carry boxes into the rental space. She turns, hair blowing cinematically in the wind, and sees Hurley again, and smiles, and Hurley feels Cupid’s arrow slam right into her chest and stick there. It’s going to do a lot more damage if she just yanks it out. Isn’t that what they always say? 

She hurries the dustpan to the garbage and sweats. She finds herself in the tiny little employee bathroom, giving her reflection a lecture. 

“What’s your problem? She’s going to be a neighbor! You should treat her with respect! What if she comes over for some reason, or you have to fight the landlord together, or- or- or you just see each other in passing, because people do that!!!” She tries to straighten up her hair, but there’s no reasoning with her bright pink curls, and she swears and settles for trying to get the dirt out from under her fingernails instead. “Stop embarrassing yourself and just be friendly!” 

She rests her face against the unrelentingly cold mirror and groans. It’s been a long time since she had a crush. And now this woman is going to be next door until the end of their days, or until one of them goes out of business. And Hurley is going to have to see her and smile and be friendly and not spy on her through the window and imagine what she’s like and whether or not she likes fried rice and steamed dumplings and ice cream sundaes for dessert. 

Hurley groans. She can’t ask this woman on a date. The only thing worse than pining after her work-neighbor until the inevitable heat-death of retail would definitely be having to see her ex every work day until the sun sets on the empire of capitalism. It’s just unreasonable. She should stick to pining after waitresses and fakey-fake bullshit dating profiles online. She’s a strong woman. She can be gay after-hours.

She dries her hands off and leaves the bathroom to continue to do her job and nearly fucking perishes among the peonies. She should have heard the door jingle jauntily. Why didn’t she hear the door jingle jauntily???

“There you are. I was so sure I saw someone through the window, but when I came in, the place was empty.” The woman from outside is now inside Hurley’s flower shop. Hurley gulps. She’s even more beautiful up close, with her long, long black hair and killer eyeliner and her sports bra peeking out from under her crop top. She has incredible abs. Hurley wants to run back to the bathroom. “I’m Sloane. I thought I’d come introduce myself, seeing as we’re going to be neighbors.” 

“Hurley,” Hurley says, feeling a lot like a pokemon, and she sticks her hand out to shake. Sloane takes it and smiles, shaking firmly. Her hands are cold but strong, and her fingers are long and elegant. She has tattoos all the way up one side and down the other, beautiful, gorgeous tattoos, some that look like watercolor and some that are only lines and some that have been shaded so carefully they don’t even look real. “This is my flower shop,” Hurley says, having very little else to say. Her brain is preoccupied. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Sloane says, cheeks a little pink. “There’s so many kinds.”

“Yeah, I pride myself on having a wide selection. I have some good relationships with the greenhouses near the city.” 

“That’s incredible,” Sloane says, and her eyes are wide enough Hurley almost believes her. “I’m moving my tattoo parlor in from Blue Lakes, I’m hoping to get more business. It’s the Raven’s Nest, maybe you’ve seen it?”

“Oh, I have!” Hurley smiles. “I don’t really have any tattoos, but I’m sure you’ll do good business here. I get a lot of repeat customers, and this location is a lot better than the strip mall where I used to work.” 

“No tattoos?” Sloane gasps, mocking horror. “How can this be? Such a lovely canvas, and completely untouched?”

Hurley’s cheeks flame at _untouched._

“I just, uh, haven’t found the piece I’m dedicated enough to yet, I guess?”

“Maybe I’ll be the one to change your mind.” Sloane winks, and she puts her hands on her hips. Hurley can’t help but stare at her abs again. “Well, I should go help the boys finish moving our shit in, but it was nice to meet you, Hurley. I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” 

“Right,” Hurley says, still dizzy. She flexes her hand that held Sloane’s, feeling like a Jane Austen novel. “I’m sure we will, being so close and all.”

“Exactly!” Sloane’s smile is so brilliant it’s hard to look directly at it. This time, the door definitely jingles jauntily behind her, and Hurley watches her leave and join the man standing by the moving truck. Hurley goes behind the counter and hops up onto her stool and sighs like a fucking middle schooler as she watches Sloane through the windows, putting her hair up in a long, long ponytail and arguing with the man in the moving company hat. Hurley props her head up and tries not to let the pink sparkles overwhelm her vision, but she’s weak, and the heart eyes have her. 

The next day, she vows to make a less star-struck impression. Hurley makes up a beautiful little pot of flowers, the planted sort, so that Sloane can enjoy them for a long time. They’re dark purple petunias, and they really seem to suit Sloane’s aesthetic. Hurley does them up nice in ribbon and tissue paper and takes a long deep breath before putting the “back soon!” sign on the door and walking over to the Raven’s Nest. She’s surprised to find it in pretty decent shape considering they just moved in. They almost seem ready for business. 

“Hello?” she calls. In a blink, Sloane has appeared from the back room, all smiles. 

“Hurley!” Sloane says. “I’m so glad you came over! And gladder we have our shit together, honestly. Do you know how much free pizza this cost me? But it doesn’t matter, it’s nearly done.”

Hurley laughs. 

“It looks great! I brought you, uh, a business-warming gift?” She wiggles the plant invitingly. “Where should I put it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sloane says, grinning. “You may want to take it back with you. I’m a repeat-plant-murderer, I’m afraid. That poor thing will be crunchy by tomorrow if you leave it with me.” 

“Don’t worry! Petunias are pretty easy to care for!” Hurley smiles back. Her chest feels so warm. Sloane’s in another incredible outfit today, dark purple overalls with a black crop top underneath that reveals a little triangle of skin under each arm. Hurley’s getting the idea Sloane likes showing off. 

“If you insist. But if it starts scratching at your door, let it in, alright?” Sloane takes the plant, her long fingers brushing Hurley’s, and she sets it on the counter by the cash register. Hurley blushes. 

“Right, um, yeah, no problem.”

Sloane stretches, popping her back. The little windows exposing her soft-looking skin get bigger and Hurley’s breath catches. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you, unless you want a tattoo.” She grins dangerously. “Of course, we still have a bit of setting up to do, but if you want a little one, you know, pop your cherry-”

Hurley’s face is on fire. 

“I’ll, um, I’ll, keep that in mind, thanks!”

“No problem!” Sloane laughs, tipping her head back and letting her dark hair cascade everywhere. Hurley wants to run her hands through it. 

“Um, I, um, I’d better- get back to work!” 

“Sorry to see you go.” Sloane leans against the counter. “We’ll be pretty busy for the next few days, but I’m serious, keep me in mind.”

“Oh, I will,” Hurley mutters. “I’ll, um, see you!”

“Right! Have a good day!”

Hurley spends the rest of the day thinking about those dark, dark eyes and the way they glittered when Sloane looked at her. 

She leaves a cactus on the Raven’s Nest’s doorstep. And a note: “Try killing this!! >:P”.

Hurley watches Sloane and the other tattoo artists come and go over the week, and Sloane was right, they are incredibly busy. Within a day, they have customers, and people with tattoos and piercings enter the shop and leave with even more tattoos and piercings. Some of the customers even come into Hurley’s shop, Greener Pastures, many of them people waiting for their friends or family in the Raven’s Nest. Business is good. Hurley’s heart is a mess. 

“Do I date her? Date her not...Date her? Date her not...” Hurley mumbles, plucking the petals off a geranium that’s seen better days. “Date her...Date her not...Date her...” Her worries haven’t gone away. It’s still unwise to date her. What if it goes wrong? Things always go wrong. If it goes wrong, Hurley will just have to live with that until the end of their businesses, or at least until she moves, and how can she justify something so expensive for a matter of a hypothetically embarrassed heart? 

“Date her not...”

But Sloane is gorgeous. And Sloane has shown interest in her. And Sloane has a successful business. 

“Date her...” 

But how is Hurley supposed to make the first move? What is she supposed to do? Where would she even start? She hasn’t gone on a date in ages. She’s rusty. She’d embarrass herself. 

“Date her not...” 

But isn’t Hurley entitled to happiness? Can’t she let her gay heart be free every once in a while? Who is she to deny the rose petals that seem to float around Sloane’s head when she says words at Hurley?

“Date her.” It’s the last petal. How decisive. Hurley wishes she could be as confident. She rests her head on the counter and groans. 

The door jingles jauntily. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Sloane’s voice has an edge of laughter to it, and Hurley’s cheeks flambe. She sweeps the geranium’s corpse onto the floor and makes her face smile as invitingly as possible. 

“Not at all! Can I help you?” 

Sloane smiles. Today she’s got her long hair up in a bun and she’s wearing a floaty black dress with sandals. 

“I’m looking for some flowers for a date.” 

Hurley’s heart drops like a stone into a pot of spaghetti-o’s. 

“Oh, um. Of course.” She stands, bites her lip, and joins Sloane. “Is it someone you know well? Do you know their favorite flower?”

“Not at all,” Sloane says. “It’ll be our first date. I was hoping to surprise her. What do you think would be nice?” 

“Oh, well, lots of people opt for roses on dates, or carnations, if you’re on a budget. Personally, I enjoy flowers that last a little longer. I have some lavender, that dries nicely, and then your date can keep it as a memento.” She rattles off her knowledge of flowers, hiding fidgeting, pollen-covered hands behind her back. 

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I’ll take the lavender, and maybe you can add something to make it a really nice bouquet?” 

“Sure, sure.” Hurley could arrange flowers in her sleep, and she puts together a sweet little arrangement in lilac paper and ties it with a ribbon. She hands the bouquet to Sloane and rings her up. Sloane hands over a flashy card and Hurley aches. “I’m sure she’ll love them.”

“Oh, I hope so.” Sloane smiles. Hurley never imagined this possibility, and she feels incredibly stupid. Of course Sloane found somebody before Hurley made her move. Sloane is hot and brave and confident. 

“All set,” Hurley chirps, and she hands the card over.

“Perfect!” Sloane hands Hurley the flowers. Hurley blinks. 

“No, these are yours. You paid.” 

“Oh, I know. But they’re for you.” 

Hurley’s brain breaks. 

“They what?”

“They’re for you, silly,” Sloane says, wrapping her hand around Hurley’s. She leans over the counter and smiles. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re single. And I was hoping you’d be down for a date.” 

“I- I- I-” Hurley stumbles. Sloane frowns.

“What, did I miscalculate?”

“No, they’re- it’s just- I- This has never happened to me before?”

“Never? What a crime! You should be showered in flowers.” She squeezes Hurley’s rapidly warming hand. “Now, what do you say?” 

“I- I- of course! Let me just- close up shop!”

“Perfect.” Sloane grins. 

Sloane meets her out front and hands her a motorcycle helmet, and Hurley nervously puts it on. 

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!”

They ride out of town, far away, the sun hanging low in the sky. Hurley screams in delight as they break, then shatter the speed limit, wrapping her arms tightly around Sloane to hold on. Their destination isn’t close, but it hardly feels that way, as fast as they fly down the highway. Hurley’s heart squeezes. She wants one. She really, really wants a motorcycle. Maybe Sloane will teach her how to ride hers. 

They finally come to stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Sloane parks her motorcycle in a wide spot on the side of the road. They take off their helmets and Sloane takes Hurley’s hand and her backpack, laughing as she runs off the side of the road and into a field. Hurley laughs and holds on tight, and soon they’re in the middle of an enormous field of wildflowers. Hurley spins around in absolute rapture, thrilled to see so many species thriving, soaking up the sunlight. It’s so joyful it ought to be a painting. 

Sloane pulls a thin blanket out of her backpack and shakes it out, letting it float down on top of the already trampled flowers. She flops down and gestures for Hurley to join her, and Hurley, of course, can’t say no. She lays on her back and stares up at the blue, blue sky, and feels her heart beat rabbit-fast in her chest. She rolls over to look at Sloane and finds her pulling out sandwiches and a thermos and cups--the whole shebang. Hurley’s going to start crying if she keeps this up. 

“This is amazing,” she gushes. “I’ve never been anywhere like this before, especially not on a date.”

“Then you need to go on better dates, my friend.” Sloane hands her a sandwich. Hurley takes a bite and smiles. 

“This is really good.” 

“Oh good,” Sloane laughs. “I got them at the store. If you’re going to date me, you need to know I’m a shit cook.” 

“Date you?” Hurley’s lungs feel full of glitter. 

“Yeah,” Sloane says, softer. “If you want to.” 

“I want to.”

“Yeah?” Sloane smiles. “I want to date you too.” 

They have an incredible picnic and then ride around town chasing the sunset on Sloane’s motorcycle. The night is young and full of new beginnings. Somehow the stars glitter brighter than they ever have before, and Hurley doesn't care how ridiculous her hair must look, because it certainly doesn't stop Sloane from kissing her under the streetlights. Hurley could kindle a bonfire with her cheeks, and she thinks she feels it heating up inside her. 

When Hurley finally gets home, her chest is so full of happiness she’s afraid it’ll burst. She can’t believe it was real. But when she gets a text from Sloane-- 

“Where should we go next time?”

\--She knows it’s going to last.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment if you had a good time! I'm hoping for a good response to this one to encourage a much larger hurloane project. You're going to love it! >:)  
> Find me on twitter @ceilingfan_5 and tumblr @ceilingfan5 !


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